And now Jordan had a girl. Worse, one who would feel it her Christian duty to nurse him, probably with eyes full of pity.
“Well, you won’t be smothered with kindness with us,” she said from the front seat. “We’ve been planning on an extra pair of hands to help organize and pack. So you’ll need a good night’s rest tonight.”
What the hell? He hadn’t expected that attitude.
“And since we’ll be working side-by-side, you’d better call me Catherine.”
Emotions had been close to the surface for Mark since the fucking Chinese troops had ambushed his unit on a reconnaissance mission into the north, but he hadn’t been closer to tears than right then, hearing Catherine accept him without hesitation. When she met him on the platform, she’d shown nothing but a smile. There’d been no recoil, no staring, no avoiding his gaze. Who was this woman, and why had Jordan been the lucky son of a bitch who found her?
At that moment, he half fell in love with Catherine Jacobsen.
“Fair warning, Mark,” Jordan said. Another quick, shared look between him and Catherine made Mark wonder what was coming. “In public you’ll have to refer to her as Sister. Sister Margaret Mary. You see, Catherine is a nun.”
Holy fucking shit!
Chapter Twenty-One
Mark and Jordan stood on the porch while Catherine went inside to pull out the sofa bed and ready it for Mark. Jordan was happy Mark decided to stay at the cottage, and not just because it meant he wouldn’t have to take him out to the house, introduce him to his mother, and then leave him to be interrogated. No, he was pleased that Mark and Catherine seemed to hit a spark with each other. He wanted them to know one another. He wanted Mark to help him change Catherine’s mind. And now that he saw his friend and the shape he was in, he had a feeling Catherine could bring him some peace, too.
The three of us together. The thought once more introduced the notion that they would be good with each other. He was brought back to reality sharply.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Mark asked quietly as soon as the door closed behind them.
Jordan burst into laughter. “C’mon with me to get dinner.”
Mark limped to the passenger side. “If you go to a nun for passion, where do you go for dinner, the priest?” He shut the car door and seemed to heave a sigh.
Jordan had taken stock of his friend in a few moments on the train platform and found him much worse off than he’d imagined. “I go home for dinner. Mandy, our cook, is packing meals for me and ‘the friend’ I’m staying with.”
Mark turned a surprised look at him. “Your mother knows?”
“Hell, no. But Mandy saw us together. She’s a sharp old bird.” He pulled smoothly out onto the highway.
“Jordan, buddy, you have to know that you’re asking for trouble. A nun, for God’s sake.” He stared out the window. “I mean, you’d be better off with a married woman. At least there you have a chance that she’d leave her husband, but holy shit. A nun.”
He turned in the seat and stared at Jordan. “And you and she have…?”
“Yeah.” Heat touched his cheeks, and he refused to look at Mark.
Mark chuckled. “Well, at least you have the courtesy to blush.”
“Do you like her?”
Mark sat silent. “Yeah, I do. She’s the first person who’s looked at me and seemed to see me, you know? I don’t feel like a freak with her.”
“She’s had a hard life and knows something about being different herself. There are depths to her, feelings and areas I can’t touch.”
“You’re lovers, though.”
“And that’s great. Wonderful. Like fireworks every time. But it isn’t enough. I don’t have the experience to understand how it was for her, growing up. I can’t touch the level of loneliness she went through.” He cleared his throat. “And that’s enough. I’ve said more about her than I should.”
Jordan glanced at his friend. “I didn’t know things were so bad, Mark. I would have come to see you.”
“For a long time I didn’t want to see anyone.” He grunted. “Hell, for a long time I didn’t want to live. Three of the five of us who went back up north didn’t. I thought they were the lucky ones.”
Jordan made the turn to go up Main, taking the longest possible route to give Mark time to talk.
“Then I went home.”
“Not what you expected?”
“Worse.” Between his legs, he twirled the cane. “Thanks for letting me come. I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I knew you’d understand.”
“I didn’t let you come, I wanted you to come. Stay as long as you want. I have a feeling…”
Mark looked his way. “Finish it.”
Jordan shot him a quick glance. “I think the ocean air will be good for you.” He didn’t say that he thought Catherine would be good for him, too. And that Mark would be good for her.
“So how do you handle these arrangements? No one knows about you two except your cook, I presume?”
“I’m her attorney. And I’m helping her pack up her mother’s belongings and prepare the cottage for sale. She’s giving everything away except what can be sold to benefit selected charities.”
“She isn’t making anything on it?”
“Not a penny. And she doesn’t mind. She’s the most selfless person I know.”
“And you fell in love. Are you sure it’s not just, I don’t know, the thrill of having something you know you shouldn’t? Like having an affair is exciting. But when she leaves the old man, fucking without the fear of him bursting in with a gun is boring as shit. Are you sure it isn’t something like that?”
“You’ve got it wrong. Catherine is the furthest thing from boring, even as Sister Margaret Mary.”
“You don’t really know her, Jordan.”
“I know her better than she knows herself.” He made a right and drove through the front gate and up the driveway.
Mark turned around and took a longer look at the huge wrought iron gates. “Your family has a crest? Jesus.”
Jordan laughed. “Dad had that made up when he made judge. It’s just for show.” Around the back of the house, he stopped and set the brake. “Better stay in the car in case my mother is around. She’ll ply you with questions.”
Jordan strode to the back door. It opened before he could knock. Shit. “Hello, Mother.”
She gave him a curt nod. “Jordan. Mandy said she was packing a dinner for you.”
“I hope that’s all right.”
“No, it’s fine.” She peered past him. “Is that the man you’re staying with?”
“We’re sharing a place for a few days. Working on something.” Mandy brought the basket of food to the door. “Thank you.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce your friend to us?” His mother started out the door.
Jordan blocked her way. “He’s not feeling too well right now. Maybe later.” He waited until she retreated back inside. “If you need me during the week, you know I’ll be helping the Sister at Hollyhock Cottage. You can come there to find me.”
She sniffed. “As if.”
“I’m sorry to hear it, but suit yourself.” He kissed her cheek and then hurried back to the car.
“Hell, I didn’t know you were rich.”
Jordan grunted. “Far from it. My dad did well enough, but I’ve lived off my military pay all the years you’ve known me. I’m about as rich as you.”
Mark regarded him interestingly. “Wanna be rich?”
He didn’t have to think long. “Not necessarily. I want to do something I love and make a difference in the world. If I get rich along the way, that would be okay.”
“The nun has worked her magic on you. Don’t they swear to live a life of poverty or something?”
“Or something.”
“Of course, I think they vow chastity, too.”
“We didn’t plan any of this, Mark. I swear to God, it hit me like a brick wall. I tried to control it.”
> “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Then he grinned. “Shit, I didn’t have a chance.”
“God got there first, buddy. Hard to forget that.”
“It about kills me to see her in that habit. She says she can’t see herself leaving the convent.”
“When that happens—if that happens—would you consider going to France? With me? To build new engines?”
“No shit?”
“No shit.” Mark laughed. “I haven’t had much to do for months. I took the plans we sketched out on the back of that envelope that girl sent you, remember?”
“Jenny Hopson. She married a frat brother five months before I got home. And after swearing undying love for me, too.”
“Her envelopes were smelly, that’s all I remember. And they were big enough for us to plan a hot new engine. An engine that will actually work, Jordan. Or at least it does on paper.”
Jordan hit the brakes going down the lane. “But what’s France got to do with it?”
“In the hospital I met a guy who knows a guy who works the pit crew for one of the Le Mans teams. He took a look at our sketch and said it has merit. But they won’t give it a good look unless we’re there.”
Jordan hid the car at the side of the house like the night before. He shut off the motor and turned to Mark. “Let me get this straight. You saved our stupid little throw-away sketch and worked on it while you were in the hospital. You showed it to a guy who knows a guy and they’re willing for us to come to France and pitch it to them.”
“That’s it. You always did catch on fast.”
“When do we leave? Why didn’t you call when you knew?”
“I found out the day I called you to come down here. I didn’t want to explain over the phone. To my parents, I just got home from Korea. I didn’t want them to know I’m thinking of going to France now.” He opened the door and struggled to stand.
Jordan watched, holding himself back from offering help. He knew Mark might need it but damn sure didn’t want it.
Finally Mark steadied himself with his cane and closed the door. “We need to be there by the first of November. If they like what they see, they want time to get it together before race season starts.”
Jordan paced his steps to match Mark’s as they went inside. On the porch, he put his hand on Mark’s arm to stop him. “I’m excited as hell by this, but let’s not bring it up in front of Catherine. I want her to feel like we have all the time in the world.”
“I get it.”
“And Mark?”
Mark raised his brows in question.
“I’m happy as hell you’re here.”
* * * *
“Mark, are you sure you’ll be all right? The bathroom is upstairs. What if you need to…use it during the night?” Catherine jumped up from the chair in the living room, where she’d sat on the edge. “I’ll leave on the light.”
Mark had to smile. Her frenetic actions showed how nervous she was to go up to bed with Jordan while he was right downstairs. “It’s okay, really.”
“Well…” She bit her bottom lip, which made her look adorable and very un-nunlike. “The pillows should elevate your leg enough. I hope it helps.”
“I’m sure they will.” He doubted he’d be able to keep his leg on that stack of feathers all night, but for her he’d give it a shot.
“Listen,” he said. “I get cramps sometimes at night. Will it bother you two if I go out and walk them off?”
“No, of course not. It’s dark out there. You will be careful, won’t you?”
He smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t fall off the cliff or anything.” The stricken look on Catherine’s face shocked him. “I was kidding. I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?”
Jordan came in from the kitchen. “You in good shape?”
“Yeah, fine. I was just telling Catherine that I get leg cramps and might go out and walk them off. So if you’re worried about noise or anything, don’t worry because I’ll be outside walking off a cramp.”
Catherine shifted her attention from him to Jordan. “What kind of noise?”
Mark wanted to laugh. Jordan shot him a look that said he’d better not. Slipping his arm across her shoulders, he said, “Let’s go upstairs and I’ll explain it to you.”
She smiled at Mark. “Good night, Mark. I’m happy you’re here.”
“Good night. Thanks for letting me stay.”
He heard them talk quietly as they climbed the stairs, and then the bedroom door closed.
Mark blew out a breath. Hobbling to the chair Catherine had just vacated, he removed his shoes and socks. His foot and ankle resembled a cantaloupe in size. Reddened skin stretched over the aching, swollen area. He stripped down to his skivvies and climbed onto the bed. Just so he could tell Catherine he used her pillows, he lifted his leg and put it on the stack. Sighing, he relaxed and let exhaustion take him.
Just about then, he heard Catherine say, “We can’t. He’ll hear us.” Then Jordan’s deep rumble came through the ceiling, and she laughed. “Oh, dear.” Jordan spoke again, and then came the unmistakable sound of bedsprings, slow at first and then quickening.
Mark should have felt a “cramp” coming on, but he didn’t think he had the energy to get up and walk around outside. But could he stay here and listen to the obvious sounds of sex going on upstairs?
Fuck it. He dragged his ass out of bed and made his way to the porch. But even outside and away from the action, the sound of bedsprings squeaking in rhythm stayed in his mind.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Nothing was the same. Her life had been turned upside down. When she came downstairs to go out to meet Lonnie, Mark had stared with confusion in his eyes before turning away, as though he hadn’t really believed them last night. And why should he? She hardly believed it herself, and she lived it. A nun by day, a harlot by night.
When at the convent, one Sunday after Mass she had overheard a woman describe another woman using that word, and the tone of her voice indicated a harlot was someone to be despised. Later, using a few precious moments alone in the library, she looked up the word in the dictionary, one of the few secular books available to the sisters. She intellectualized the word then, but now she understood it in her deepest recesses—those recesses Jordan readily revealed to her while exploring her body.
Harlot. Imagining such a woman had been horrible then. But at night, when the lights were out and only moonlight invaded the room, when Jordan made her complete by licking her cream and then filling her with his penis in long, slow strokes, well, then harlot took on a whole new meaning. Hunger, desire, daring, and fulfillment.
At that moment, kneeling at the communion rail and waiting for Father Samuels to work his way down to her with the blessed Host, all she could think of was Jordan’s lean body melding with hers. Her soul could be damned to Hell and still she would think of him, feel him, want him with every bit of her being.
“Dominus vobiscum.” Her eyes were closed, but she could see in her mind’s eye the ever-present scowl on Father Samuels’ face as he wished the Lord to be with her.
“Et cum Spiritu tuo.”
She stuck out her tongue to receive the Host, but the priest didn’t place it on her tongue. Her eyes flew open to find him studying her with intensity. He knows!
Don’t let him see you’re upset. Jordan’s calm, controlling voice spoke to her, and she gathered herself as never before. Raising her brows, she said in a low voice, “Father, people are waiting.”
Grimly, he held out the Host, Margaret Mary accepted it on her tongue, and he moved on. But he knew about her, she couldn’t doubt it. He surely would confront her and then write Mother Superior. Her time in Ballymeade was limited now, whether they finished packing the house or not.
Rising off her knees, she retook her set in the pew, anxious for Mass to be at an end.
As she expected, Father held her back until everyone had gone. Jordan leaned against his car watching for her, but he pushed away when the pr
iest restrained her and pushed her back into the shadows of the vestibule.
“It’s all right, Jordan,” she said when she heard his footfall behind her.
“It’s not all right,” the priest spat out. He shook his finger in Jordan’s face. “I trusted you! Brendan Tipton told me he had arranged for you to help her, and I was happy because you were a good man. And now look! You’ve ruined her. I didn’t believe Tipton when he told me, but one look at her this morning and I knew.”
He spun on Margaret Mary. “And you! You haven’t the soul of a nun. You are not blessed, you are not chosen by God to be His bride. You are a whore, no better than your mother!”
Without thinking, Margaret Mary slapped him. Then she clapped her hand to her mouth in horror. Father Samuels covered his cheek with his hand. It shook, whether from shock or rage, she couldn’t tell.
“If you hadn’t done it, I would, and worse,” Jordan said. He took her arm and tried to lead her out into the sunlight.
Father followed after them. “If you return, I shall not give you communion,” he called. “I shall denounce you!” He backed into the shadows of the church and slammed the wooden door shut.
Margaret Mary took a shallow breath. “What have I done? What have I done?”
Jordan sat her in the car and crouched beside her. “Look at me,” he demanded. She couldn’t help but do what he said. “You did nothing wrong. He might be a priest, but he doesn’t represent God, not the way he treats you. He was way out of line.”
Slowly, she nodded. Father Samuels had no right to say that about her mother or about her. She was discovering love. And who knew why her mother did what she did? Was it a man’s job here on Earth to judge them? He didn’t know the yearnings of a woman, or the desires. Those things didn’t make her any less in God’s eyes, she was sure of it.
“I’ll take you to a different church if you want. We don’t have to put up with that ass.”
“As always, you help me see things in a new perspective.” She loved the shine in his eyes when he smiled as he did now. “I think for the time being God and I will become friends without the intermediary.”
Seducing Their Nun [Unlikely Bedfellows 1] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 14
